


Real Me, The

by ReaverPoet



Category: Firefly
Genre: F/F, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-09-25
Updated: 2003-09-25
Packaged: 2019-04-29 10:07:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14470353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReaverPoet/pseuds/ReaverPoet
Summary: Kaylee asks Inara to help her gain self-knowledge through erotic pain.





	Real Me, The

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Firefly’s Glow](https://fanlore.org/wiki/Firefly%27s_Glow), and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Firefly's Glow collection profile](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/fireflysglow/profile).

 

The Real Me

## The Real Me

### by ReaverPoet

The Real Me-Part 1/3: Kaylee's POV 

Title: The Real Me   
Author: ReaverPoet   
Email: exquis_cadavre@yahoo.com   
Characters: Kaylee, Inara   
Pairing: Kaylee/Inara   
Crossover?: No   
Rating: NC-17   
Genre: _slash_   
Status: Complete   
Summary: Kaylee asks Inara to aid her in gaining self knowledge through erotic pain.   
Archive: Archive freely, but keep all headings. If redistriubuted, distribution must be free of charge.  
Disclaimer: No intent to challenge copyright here. Warning: Part 1 is fairly tame. Part 2 contains only masturbation. Part 3 is a graphic, consentual BDSM piece, involving a wax scene between two women. It is not suitable for minors, or fundies. Feedback: Constructive criticism and feedback to exquis_cadavre@yahoo.com. Flames will be ignored, for your own safety. 

"There is no coming to consciousness without pain." - Carl Jung 

Look-I just have to say this. Ask this. But I don't know how, so I'm going to sneak up on it. So, just let me talk, even if it sounds like rambling. 

See the thing is the difference between an engineer--a good one, anyways--and regular folk is that regular folk see a thing as what it was intended to be used for. An engineer, she sees all the qualities of the thing without bein' biased by the maker's intention. She sees the many things it could be used for in a pinch. 

It's probably a little like the way the Captain and Zoe look at everything to see what kind of threat it could be. Even apples and stuff. And the way some people look at everything to see how it could make them money. 

Engineers, though, they see how a thing can be used to build. To create. That's a different kind of sight. 

I reckon that's why I see better than Simon that he's doing just fine aboard Serenity. All he sees is that he made himself the perfect part to fit into a fancy hospital's machinery. But I see that while that's true, he also fits pretty well with us. 

Now, it's true, when you adapt a part to fit in a machine it ain't built for, it may take you some extra time and trouble to make it work right. A little utility tape here, a little extra bit of metal added there. It's like that with Simon too; he's taking some time to adapt to us. But he's doing just fine. 

He'll fit with me too. I mean in my life, of course. Seeing like an engineer is kind of like being able to tell the future. I see what the whole machine can look like when it's finished. So, I know Simon will be with me. 

He gave me my first taste of tea today. It was horrible-real bitter. But I smiled, anyway, because it was precious to him and he shared it. We sat and held our tea, and it was warm in my hands, like a part from Serenity that's been worked too hard and not cooled enough. I though about making him warm like that in my hands---my mouth. 

Wish I knew what he was thinking about. 

After the tea, we came to pick River up from you. 

River-far as I can figure, somebody tried to make her fit a machine she had no business being in. They changed the whole shape of her mind to make her fit. She broke instead. 

Oh-That doesn't mean she hasn't got a use anymore, though. I can take a broken piece of metal from a trashyard and make all sorts of useful things. Broke for one purpose ain't broke for all. 

Not that she's trash or anything! I didn't mean it that way. I like River, even though she scares me some. OK, scares me a lot. Not like Nisca, or anything. More like Serenity. Like having an appreciation for how big the explosion would be if Serenity didn't get the care she needs. Only River hasn't been cared for proper, like I do for Serenity. 

So, anyway, it kinda all started with River. That time I told you all about, when we were rescuing the Captain, and I couldn't....and she picked up a gun and just went all Lone Ranger? Well, at first I just couldn't get over how it meant that I didn't really know River. Didn't know what she was capable of, even though I had thought she did. 

Then, after a while, I realized that's not what was really troubling me. The problem is I don't know me. I didn't know that I couldn't shoot the bad guys to save the Captain, or even to save myself. I didn't know I was going to get so scared like that. 

How can I figure out how I fit into everything....what my place is in the 'verse....unless I know myself? 

I look in the mirror, and I see a stranger. Someone mysterious. And dangerous, just like River is dangerous, because the unknown is always a danger. Particularly if it comes about that you have to rely on it for something. 

I have to rely on myself, Inara. I have to know who I am. Who I really am---not the stories I believe in my head. 

So, I was talking to Book about it. I thought since he was a Shepherd, he might know something about this. Maybe, if I had caught him at a different time, he would have quoted holy stuff at me, or told me to pray or something. I don't know, I ain't never talked much to a Shepherd. Anyway, I caught him while he was staring at his food, thinking deep thoughts. He told me there was this evil ruler guy once, who said that the only way to know a person was to torture them. That you could live with a guy and all, but they would still be an unknown until you opened them up with pain. Then you would find the real person. 

And I thought of you. 

I remembered something you had told me once, about how some of your clients like to be hurt, and about how there's an art to it, mixing the pain with pleasure. You said you take away their armor that way, and that's what they want. To be really naked for once. To have someone see who they are behind all that. 

That's...that's what I need. I need to know the real me. And I trust you. You won't break me. 

So, I brought what money I've got. It ain't all that much, but I can owe you. Or I could build you things, or fix things. 

And I know I ain't a beautiful, powerful diplomat or nothing. I'm just an engineer, and most times all I got is a pretty smile. 

Please. I need to know. 

The Real Me, Part 2: Inara's POV 

"In man's stone-dark heart there burns a fire That burns all veils to their root and foundation. When the veils are burned away, the heart will understand completely..." 

  * Rumi 



Her anguish is like a bullet through my heart. I want to comfort her with soft, gentle kisses, and whisper in her ear that she is a treasure , born to bring joy with her to all who know her. That is not the comfort she needs, though. Gentleness can not give her the peace she is seeking from me. She needs me to take her someplace dark and sacred. 

I smile and take her hand, and promise to give her what she needs. I refuse her money, but accept a promise of a favor. She would not understand the subtle distinction, but this is my vocation, not my job. To heal her in this way is the very soul of my calling. 

This is not a thing to be undertaken lightly, or without planning. I send her away with a chaste kiss, knowing her whole body is tense with anticipation. She will have to suffer the wait; I must prepare. 

I brew myself a strong, hot tea, of psychoactive herbs, which smells sweet, but tastes bitter. I lock the shuttle door with a code not even Mal knows. I undress and bathe myself slowly in the ritual manner, purifying soul and body with cool water and softly chanted prayers. 

I pray to an older divinity than Book does. Of her many names, I choose Ishtar this evening, because I need to call on her cruel sensuality, I need to absorb that aspect of divinity. I will need to be the goddess for Kaylee. 

The tea is beginning to set in as I lay myself on my bed. My body is suffused with warmth, and my skin becomes more sensitive to touch. The world outside my mind and body is out of focus. It falls away from me, and I am left with myself. The last thing I can sense outside of my body is the scent of the incense in the room; the sandlewood fades abruptly to nothing. I begin the exercise of veils which is taught only to advanced students at the academy. One hundred deep breaths, as I recall the story of the grieving goddess who seeks to storm death's palace to rescue her young lover. At each of death's seven gates, she surrenders jewels and clothing, until she stands naked before death. 

There are things I must abandon in order to lead Kaylee down this path. My hands caress my face and throat as I begin that contemplation. 

I must abandon the things I think I know about myself, for I become a new creature with every client, reborn in another person's need. 

My hands drift down to my arms, my shoulders, my breasts. My nipples harden under my fingers. 

I must abandon the certainties I have about Kaylee, for she too will be remade. I must abandon my pride in my knowledge of my craft, for every exploration is new. 

One hand moves down to my sex, and I feel that I am already very wet. Can it be that Kaylee has moved me to lust more than I knew? 

I must abandon my need for affection; that would divert my purpose. I must abandon my body's desire; that would distract me. 

I follow the rhythm my body craves, and bring myself to climax, thinking of having Kaylee's body squirming against mine. Darkness takes my mind and I fall into a deep sleep because of the herbs I have taken. 

I dream of warmth. Hot tea cup between my hands, tea spilling on my tender skin, a ships engine, thrumming with power , bits of it burning when I try to fix them, a man's body...Simons, I guess...a woman's.....River's body. All of it heat. Dark fire that burns me sweetly. Kaylee needs that warmth. 

I wake hours later, the tea gone from my system. 

I am prepared to give Kaylee the pleasure and pain she needs. She needs heat. 

I cleanse myself again, and dress, and open a chest to bring out a special set of candles. 

The Real Me, Part 3/3: Inara's POV 

"When Ishtar reached the gate of the Land of No Return, She said to the gatekeeper:  
'O gatekeeper, open thy gate,  
Open thy gate so I may enter!  
If thou openest not the gate so that I cannot enter, I will smash the door, I will shatter the bolt, I will smash the doorpost, I will move the doors..." - The Descent of Ishtar 

She was pale as a ghost when I opened the shuttle doors for her. She looked half dead with fear. I drew her into my arms and she shivered. She would not meet my eyes. 

I tangled my hand in her hair and gently brought her face up to mine. 

"Are you certain you want this, Kaylee?" 

"I don't know if I want it, Inara. I need it, though. Should I....take of my clothes?" 

I laughed to myself. She's used to sex without ceremony, simple fucking, I thought. She's not prepared for what I have to give her. 

"Let's talk first. Come here and sit close to me. " 

I took her to the cushioned floor, then, and stroked her hair comfortingly. I moved close to her, so she could smell the subtle spice of the perfume I wear, and feel the warmth of my body through her clothes. Taking up my silver brush from a side table, I began to gently untangle her soft hair, knowing that the feel of such attentions always calmed her. I could feel the tension leave her shoulders as I cared for her that way. Her tight breathing softened and slowed. 

"You have beautiful hair, Kaylee," said after a while. She tensed up slightly at my words, and then relaxed again as she processed them. She is so afraid, I thought. Of me? Or of herself? 

"Kaylee, this isn't going to be a surprise attack, I promise. You need to be able to take back control if it's too much, so I'm going to let you see everything coming. OK? In fact, I'm going to make sure you have a special escape word to say, in case things get to be too much for you. If you say it, we stop the pain, and I will concentrate on making you feel safe and secure." 

"What word?" she asked, after thinking about this for a moment. 

"What makes you feel most safe, Sweetheart?" 

She considered this silently, as my hairbrush sifted through her fine hair. "The ship makes me feel most safe. Serenity." 

"Then 'Serenity' is your escape word." 

"I won't use it," she said, after a minute. "I need to get all the way through this." 

I brought my mouth close to her ear, so she could feel my warm breath tickle against her tender skin. "You don't know what you can take yet, Kaylee. You don't even know what I can give." 

She shivered, and a soft moan escaped her lips. Good, I thought. She wants me at least as much as she fears me. I moved around her, laying down the brush, and kissed her with slow, deliberate sensuality. She tried to pull me in for a fiercer kiss, but I withdrew until she realized I would control the kiss as I pleased. 

I explored her sweet lips with my tongue then, so slowly she whimpered with frustration----but she let me do my will. Then, tenderly, I let my tongue slip into her eager mouth and dance with hers. Her body swayed into mine, and she gave herself to the kiss, caught up in desire, and desperate to be distracted from fear. 

As we kissed, I moved my hands to her face, and caressed her cheeks with my fingertips, trailing them slowly down to her neck, across her shoulders and arms, to her hands. I brushed across her palms, waking the sensitive nerves there with my touch. 

Then I took her hands and placed them on my body. She was shy, even with permission, sliding her hands around to my back to pull me into the kiss. 

My hands were bolder, and I traced the curve of her breasts through her shirt, bringing my fingers close to where her hardened nipples were visible through the cloth, but not quite there, yet. She squirmed, trying to nudge my touch to her need. 

I let my caress flicker over her nipples, and she moaned loudly, her mouth hungry on mine. I pulled away from the kiss, and drew her to her feet. Her face was flushed with desire, and I could smell the sweetness of her sex through her clothes. 

"Now," I said, smiling at her, "you may take your clothes off. Slowly, Kaylee. Show me your beauty, Sweet Girl." 

I sat back down, lounging against the pillows, leaving her standing there. Her flush grew deeper as she realized I meant to watch her disrobe, like that. 

She kept her eyes on mine, and her fingers fumbled with the buttons of her shirt, clumsily, as if she did not quite understand how buttons worked anymore. 

"Breathe, Kaylee," I instructed her. "Take it slowly." 

Then each button came undone, one by one, each revealing a new vista of soft, pale flesh for me to possess. Then she fumbled at her pants, and managed to wrestle them off. She rushed more than I would have liked, but I smiled on her and showed her desire in my eyes. She blushed again, and stripped her underthings off without looking at me. 

I rose, and let my vision wash over her. I let her realize I was enjoying the sight of her. I moved close and showed her how to undo the fastenings of the silk robe I was wearing. 

I took her over to my bed, and guided her onto it. Showed her the manacles at the head and foot, so she could think about that for a while. 

Lying with my body against hers, I claimed her mouth again, letting her have now a little of the fierceness she had wanted to kiss me with before. I covered her in teasing caresses, and her hands began to explore my body as well. 

Then I released her and began to kiss and lick her neck, twining around and nestling my mouth just below and behind her ear. She gasped, and her body squirmed a little with the pleasure of it. I brought my fingertips over to her nipples, and began to tease them with feather touches. Her moans became more earnest---entreaties for more. I brought my mouth down to lick and suck her nipple then, and let my hand drift to her swollen sex, playing over those lips, and feeling how wet she had become for me. 

She cried out with need and loss when I stopped. 

"More soon, Sweetheart," I comforted her. Then, I stretched her out and fastened the manacles on her, one at a time. She was silent, and her eyes, dilated with pleasure, grew wide with fear, but she didn't struggle, and she didn't cry out for safety. 

The thin, white tapers were standing unlit on a bedside table. I lit one and showed it to her. She didn't understand at first, until I held the candle over her and allowed one single drop of melted wax to land between her breasts. 

Then, she cried out, more with the shock of it than the pain. I could see her thinking where else I could drop the wax, and I waved the candle over the whole length of her body, slowly, to let her imagine all the many possibilities. 

A few more molten drops between the breasts, as my other hand toyed with her nipples. A line of drops down her arm. Three down her belly. Each time, her body arched in pain, and she cried out, her voice lovely with suffering. 

She didn't expect the trickle of wax down her foot to be next. Most people don't think about how sensitive the feet really are. Someone once asked the Grand Inquisitor, Tomas de Torquemada, what part of the body he would choose to torture, if he could only have one part, and he said he would prefer the feet. He knew his business well. 

I brought the candle down and let the wax trickle between Kaylee's toes, and at the same time, I slipped my fingers gently inside her sex. She bucked up, bringing my hand deeper, and my fingers began to writhe inside her. She whimpered and rubbed against my hand. 

I trailed wax all the way up from her feet as my fingers worked her. The candle was lower now, and I allowed more than one drop to hit her skin. Little rivulets of wax ran over her and hardened, as she cried out and squirmed. She was not able to stop herself from straining at her bonds anymore, when the wax hit. There was something desperate in her eyes. 

"Kaylee, do you remember your escape word?" I asked, gently. 

Her eyes gathered focus. "Yes," she answered shakily. 

"Do you need to use it?" 

"No," she whispered. Her voice husky and unsteady. 

I held the candle directly over one of her nipples, and brought it low towards her skin. She knew enough of the wax now to know that the lower the candle was, the hotter the wax would be. 

I held the candle there so she could think about the pain. I looked into her eyes and watched the fear. She was in an ecstasy of terror. 

"Say `Serenity', Kaylee," I instructed. 

She shook her head, silent. 

I poured the wax and she screamed. 

Before the wax had even hardened, I had extinguished the flame, and moved my mouth down to her swollen clit, tasting her as my fingers played inside her. I devoured her, and her body went quickly from agony to pleasure. She moaned and sobbed and came, screaming a second time. 

I held her, then, and she wept, as I comforted her. Beyond the tears, her eyes shined of wisdom. 

#### If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to ReaverPoet


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